Suspended
by Tapaidh Sidh
Summary: Lily Evans is an enigma to James Potter, and, as times darken, he would love to get to know her. There is only one problem: his friends detest her.


Disclaimer: All names, places, events and otherwise related to Harry Potter are owned by J.K Rowling.

Thank you to all those who reviewed 'Suspended' when it was previously posted here. The present story has changed slightly, mainly so it is more in keeping with facts disclosed in 'Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince'. I hope you enjoy the first chapter!

_Suspended_

Chapter 1

James Potter yawned, looking blearily around the Gryffindor common room. It was half past eight on a Sunday evening, and the inhabitants of Gryffindor house were up to the usual activities – doing homework, playing wizard chess or Exploding Snap, and talking with friends.

James closed his mouth. Speaking of friends, where were his? He couldn't find them anywhere in Gryffindor Tower … well, he hadn't searched in the girls' dormitories, but he suspected they would not have gone there. Perhaps they were in the library – no, they had all been thrown out earlier for setting some dungbombs off, with the severe instructions not to return for the rest of the day, and he knew they hadn't gone down to the kitchens, because his Invisibility Cloak was safely in his pocket, and they would have desired it had they gone to get food. So where were they?

Laughter floated over to his table. Very familiar laughter, and a teasing voice. Looking warily towards the portrait hole, James sighed. _Here we go again_, he thought resignedly.

Three boys and a harassed-looking girl had entered the common room and were wandering in the general direction of James's table. Two of the boys were laughing and jeering at the girl, one tall with immaculate black hair, and the other short, chubby and blond-haired. The third boy wore an awkward expression, and was clearly uncomfortable with the situation; he was fidgeting and twirling brown hair around a long, pale finger.

Skirting around the tall boy, the girl walked up the stairs to the girls' dormitories, looking back only once to fleetingly stare witheringly at the small group. The shortest boy grinned even more widely, his pale blue eyes gleaming.

"Evening, Prongs!" the first boy called, striding over to where James was. He did not answer them, and only looked up at them when they had sat down.

"Can't you give her a break?" he asked quietly.

"Nope," the black-haired one replied, as though he had said it lots of times before. James rolled his eyes.

"Oh, come on, Sirius. Why not?"

"She's a bookworm," Sirius said shortly. "A studious, impertinent little bookworm who annoys me no end." And that he had said previously, on many occasions.

"I agree," the plump one said fervently.

"Well, you would, Peter," spoke up the third boy in a tired voice. James looked at his white face in concern.

"Are you all right, Remus?" he said, worriedly. "You don't look well."

"Fine, fine," said Remus, a small smile darting across his shadowed face. "It's a bad time for me, that's all. I'll be OK."

Satisfied that Remus was all right, Sirius grinned and said, "So, what's in store for Evans next, Wormtail?"

"Er … dungbombs in her bag, I think," said Peter, after a moment's thought.

Sirius's face broke into an evil grin.

James looked at them and sighed again. It had always been like this, for almost the whole six years they had been at Hogwarts, and he could never stop the others from continuing.

Things had started off fine for them at the school, but on the third day of their first year, a nasty incident had occurred.

Sirius had got up that morning rather tetchy, because he had been up talking to Peter for more than half the night. Stumbling down the corridor to Transfiguration, he had bumped into somebody, and his books had gone flying.

"Sorry," the person had apologised, stooping to pick up Sirius' books.

In another situation, Sirius would have apologised, too. As it was, his tiredness had made him very irritable, and he had showed it. "Why don't you watch what you're doing?" he had snapped.

"As far as I'd realised, I'd stopped, just like the rest of the students in front of me. Which makes it your fault for crashing into me," the girl had said coolly. "Or am I wrong?"

This, then, was Lily Evans. She had stared at Sirius, who had been desperately casting about for something to say, until he finally managed to come out with:

"Well, at least _I_ haven't got stupid red hair!"

A sparring match had ensued between Lily and Sirius, culminating abruptly when she had returned a reply that had had him stumped for a retort. James had grinned to himself, secretly admiring her, as she had walked away, leaving Sirius spluttering incoherently in angry indignation.

Peter, being extremely loyal to his friends, had sided with Sirius completely. James had expressed no opinion, having been torn between Lily and Sirius – although he hadn't really met her before then, James had been struck by her cleverness. But he had felt he owed some loyalty to Sirius, being his friend, so he had said nothing. Remus had always liked Lily, seeing many of his own traits in her. He hadn't become friends with Sirius, Peter and James until several days later; not having been present at the scene, had said nothing to Sirius about it either, and he never insulted her, although he did play pranks on her.

No one had ever defeated Sirius in a verbal argument before. He'd had to have revenge on Lily Evans.

And so it went on. Several times weekly, Sirius and Peter, often accompanied by Remus, had revenge on Lily, and the next day Lily had revenge on them. It never stopped.

"I'm going to bed," James said shortly, shaking himself away from his memories. Dwelling on them would do no good at all. He stood up, and the others looked at him inquisitively, wondering at his terse tone.

"What's the matter with you?" Sirius asked, blunt as usual.

"Nothing, I'm just tired. I'll see you in the morning, then?"

"Yeah," Remus answered. "Bye."

"Good night," the other two chorused, putting down their Exploding Snap cards for a moment.

"Night."

James slowly climbed the spiral stairs until he reached the seventh year boys' dormitory. He was faced with a round room, which had broken quills, old pieces of parchment and various books and items of clothing scattered untidily around it. He flopped down on to his bed, feeling rather depressed.

It was strange, he thought, that he had spent the past six years divided in two like this. He knew he wanted to stay friends with Remus, Peter and Sirius, and also to be friends with Lily – but he would never be able to have both wishes. If he became her companion, the others' intimacy with him would be ruined … and if he didn't, he would be depriving himself of a friendship that he wanted, that he needed.

James had to admit it to himself, even if not to anybody else, especially Remus, Peter and Sirius. He liked Lily. He knew he did. He had never told his friends that he wanted to be her friend. There was nothing to dislike about her – and yet, he knew that she did not like him. She hardly ever spoke to him, after all, and on the rare occasions when she did, it was with the utmost wariness, as if he might curse her any second.

He undressed, pulled on some old pyjamas and got into bed, first making sure that he wouldn't trip over anything of Sirius's that might be lying on the floor when he got up the next morning and probably break his leg. Staring up at the dark ceiling, he thought for a long time, and was still awake when the other four boys come up two hours later.

* * *

Lily Evans lay in bed, wondering what stupid trick Sirius Black and two of his three friends were going to play on her the following day. Today, they had turned her hair green and then laughed themselves silly, whilst she had pretended not to perceive anything unusual, all the while formulating a way to pay them back. The opportunity had risen when the three who had played the prank were in the library, huddled into a shadowy corner and whispering about something. They often held these private, secret conversations, therefore Lily had thought nothing of it, and had crept behind the bookshelf near them. Holding out her wand, she had pointed it at Remus Lupin, and whispered a quiet spell, followed by several more.

"Remus!" Sirius Black had said, shocked. "Your face!"

"What about it?"

"It's – it's _glowing_!"

"_What?_" Remus had dropped the parchment he had been holding, stared at Sirius, and his mouth had opened. "Yours is blue!"

"Peter, did you do this?" they had chimed together, turning to Peter Pettigrew, only to be met with vibrant green. His face had been a healthy lime colour.

Sirius had stood still for a second, then –

"_Evans!_" he and Peter had howled in fury, whilst Remus had picked up his parchment hurriedly, as though he did not want anybody else to see it or take it from him. Thinking it wise to leave at that point, Lily had scrambled up and fled out of the library, doubling over at the expressions on their newly improved faces.

She giggled now at the memory, causing one of her roommates to stir. Lily quieted quickly, though a smile still remained on her face. She loved it when they got that angry look in their eyes, the humiliation they suffered at her hands in the Great Hall … but, she had to confess, she was beginning to become weary of thinking up new pranks, and of all the tricks that were played on her in return. Had six years not been long enough for a rivalry like this to go on?

Lily sighed, rolled over and tried to get to sleep.

Having woken the next morning, she lay for quite a while, thinking, and oblivious to the bustle that meant that the other girls were getting ready for lessons.

"Lily?" said a voice. "You awake? It's almost nine o'clock – you'll have to hurry if you want to make it to breakfast, or you'll be late for Charms."

Lily bolted out of bed in a panic and down the girls' staircase into the common room. Having been late on occasions and experienced the consequences, she was anxious not to make the same mistake again (the previous time she had arrived after the beginning of Transfiguration, she had been made to scrub out potion-encrusted cauldrons for two hours). She hurriedly made her way towards the portrait hole. It was only when somebody sniggered loudly behind her that she realised she was still wearing pyjamas. She turned around slowly.

Remus was grinning, and Sirius and Peter were snickering.

"Shut up," she said, and glanced at James. He was standing a little way apart form the other three, appearing acutely interested in a red armchair. Lily turned pink, feeling slightly self-conscious in front of them with only pyjamas on, and cleared her throat. "See you in Charms."

"Oh, you will!" cackled Sirius. Lily ignored him and ran up the stairs.

She arrived five minutes late to her Charms lesson without having had any breakfast, she had taken so long to get ready. She had packed half of the wrong books into her bag before noticing it. For some reason, she hadn't been able to get rid of the image of James Potter's face, dark eyes fixed on the armchair while his friends laughed at her. She wondered why he hadn't been laughing too – maybe he just hadn't felt much like it.

Lily was writing down the words that Professor Flitwick was dictating when a horrible smell reached her nose. She groaned inwardly. She knew that smell, and she knew the culprits. Putting her quill down, she stared pointedly at Sirius, who smirked at her. James, however, did not catch her eye, and carried on writing, deliberately not looking up from his parchment.

She shook her head slightly and continued to write, ignoring the exclamations and whispers from her classmates as the smell reached them. She could handle this; she had been strong for six years, and she was not going lose her nerve over a couple of dungbombs, and give Sirius Black the satisfaction of knowing that he and his friends had got the better of her. Determinedly, she gritted her teeth and tried not to breathe through her nose, immensely relieved when the bell rang and she could leave.

James watched her disappear down the corridor for break, and then turned back to his friends, who were giving each other high-fives and congratulating themselves on their prank. "Right, right, you've had revenge. Now what?"

"We wait for her pathetic comeback," grinned Sirius. He pushed a lock of stray black hair out of his face, and turned to Remus. "Right, Moony? You in for our revenge whenever we have it?"

"Definitely," said Remus, "and I suppose you're in too, Wormtail? You never miss a prank."

"Yep. I'm in," Peter said brightly.

"I'll see you in Transfiguration, then, when you've finished deciding who'll be participating in your next prank," James said, and started off to the classroom.

Transfiguration dragged by, with many glares exchanged by Sirius and Lily. Eventually, Professor McGonagall noticed and moved Lily behind the boys, so that the four of them couldn't make eye contact and start the whole routine again.

James fidgeted yet again in his seat, tugging at his black fringe restlessly; he couldn't concentrate. He kept thinking about Lily. What was it like for her, he wondered, to be on the receiving end of many of his friends' pranks? There were three of them to hatch and carry out ideas, and she was alone – there was only one of her. It must be incredibly difficult to come up with a prank every few days. On impulse, James swivelled around and looked at her. She was writing quietly, concentrating: the picture of innocence. Was she lonely? She hardly ever seemed to sit by anyone in particular in the common room or the Great Hall. He studied her face intently.

"Potter! Will you stop staring at Evans and get on with your work?"

James fell off his stool.

"Are you all right, Potter?" said Professor McGonagall.

James sheepishly emerged from behind his desk, desperately trying not to catch the eyes of any of his classmates, who were peering inquisitively in his direction. _Padfoot_ _and Wormtail are going to kill me. Help._

"Sorry, Professor," he muttered, wishing he could just disappear. He sat down and glanced back at Lily. She stared at him for a few seconds, raised her eyebrows questioningly and then went back to her work. He felt worse than ever. _Let me die, let me die now._

Sensing Professor McGonagall's sharp gaze on him, James turned around again and pretended to scribble industriously. He had been wrong about Lily sitting next to nobody, he realised – she was sometimes in the company of Jessica Morgan and Isabel Jackson and Dorcas Meadowes, three seventh year Gryffindors, and occasionally some Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs. She appeared to be recognised and known by most of the school.

She was odd, was Lily Evans. Since first year, James had kept looking out for her everywhere he went – a flash of red hair, a sparkle of emerald eyes. He still did it now. Not a meal went by when James did not crane his neck, glancing up and down the Gryffindor table for a glimpse of her, and he was never satisfied until he found her. He did the same in corridors. He was not sure why. There was definitely something about her that caught and held his attention.

To his relief, none of his friends expended much contemplation upon the matter of his searching. He doubted Sirius and Peter even noticed: James could not have asked for better friends, but he did wish that they weren't so attached to food. Remus wasn't so bad; he, at least, seemed able to have a decent conversation that comprised of something other than grunts. James reckoned that Remus sometimes saw what James was doing at mealtimes, but Remus never commented on it. He was usually wrapped up in his own thoughtful silence, rather than observing the actions of his friends, and James was grateful for this.

Behind James, Lily sighed. His face was still plaguing her. She could not get rid of it, and she was unable to work. She would have to ask Isabel or Jess for their work afterwards, to copy up anything she had missed … if she was able to concentrate then.

Lily stared at the back of James's head. His hair had always fascinated her, the way it stuck up at the back and was perpetually untidy. She knew he owned a hairbrush – she had seen Sirius attacking him with it several times, both to clobber him and to try and tidy up his hair – but no amount of brushing appeared to do any good.

James was not at all bad, Lily thought. All right, he had never been particularly friendly towards her, but on the other hand, he hadn't ever insulted her. But she had tried to avoid talking to him, because she was afraid that she would make him hate her, if he didn't already, or that her attention would cause him to become even more arrogant than he had been.

Now Lily thought about it, all this revolved around Sirius. James, being Sirius's best friend, had most likely agreed with him that she was awful, even though he did not show it. And Lily herself had previously thought that James, apart from being slightly less selfish, appeared sometimes to be almost like Sirius: rude, obnoxious and egotistical.

She was beginning to realise, however, that she might have been wrong.

* * *

Several days slipped by, and Lily became the victim of an orange nose and a cursed hat. The hat caused her ears to shrink, and she had to go to Madam Pomfrey, the school nurse, to have them fixed. In turn, at least twenty grey owls swooped down one morning, showering Sirius, Peter and Remus with dungbombs. James, they noted with faint resignation, seemed not to have been targeted. 

"Why didn't she get you?" Peter grumbled, sniffing disgustedly at his robes.

"I don't know," said James, feigning astonishment; but he could not help feeling a small tingle of satisfaction. Lily hadn't included him, again – she hadn't once since the animosity between her and the others had begun. James supposed she was extending the same courtesy to him that he did to her: neither incorporated the other in their targets.

James knew this, of course, though every few days the flicker of contentment surfaced when he saw he was being debarred from her prank. For a moment, as he saw her face at the other end of the Gryffindor table, he could not stop himself from thinking, hoping, that perhaps she –

_No_, James told himself sternly. He had never had to deal with this thought before, and he did not intend to start brooding on it now. _Of course she doesn't like me. I can't think like that … Padfoot would murder me if I did anything._

The following morning, after Lily had unearthed stones in her cereal, she went with the other Gryffindors to Potions. She could hear Sirius Black complaining ahead of her, and rolled her eyes.

"I hate it … it's so _pointless_ … I wish we didn't have it …"

She remembered he had made the exact same complaint once in fifth year, before a History of Magic lesson.

"It's OK for you," James had said. "You just use the opportunity to have a sleep."

Lily had stifled a giggle. Sirius hadn't been the only one; Jessica Morgan had repeatedly fallen asleep every lesson.

That one had been no exception. Professor Binns's monologue about Uric the Oddball had bored them near to tears. Half of them had been in a stupor, heads lolling on their hands, and the other half had actually been asleep. Faint snores had been emanating from several students, but Professor Binns had not heeded them, and had kept on talking.

It wasn't what he said that made the lessons so bad for everyone, all years, it was his _voice_: it droned on and on in the same wheezy, monotonous tone, never stopping for long – as Professor Binns was a ghost, he had no need for breathing. And, to their annoyance, the students could never throw a quill or some other item at him when they were irritated, and make it look like an accident; anything aimed at Professor Binns harmlessly went right through him and clattered to the floor.

The class could have handled hearing about topics such as Emeric the Evil and the 1612 goblin rebellion if they'd had any other teacher. James suspected that he would have enjoyed History of Magic that way – a lot of it was probably very interesting, if Professor Binns was whisked out of the picture. And no one could have killed him off, either, if they had wanted to, in order to get a different teacher, because he was already dead. It was frustrating.

How long had Professor Binns been a ghost? James wondered now, trudging along the corridor to Potions. Did he describe the events in such meticulous detail because he had been alive (or dead) through some of them, actually around at the time to know what had happened?

Later on, in Herbology, Lily groaned inwardly and set down her quill. Her stomach rumbled loudly again; because she had been reading before going to a late breakfast and her cereal had been full of stones, giving her no time to select anything else, she had hardly eaten anything, and her stomach was griping at her for it. She looked at the notes she had made. She had condensed Professor Sprout's speech to about a quarter of its original length, having the ability, like most students, to write selectively, choosing the relevant parts to write down and leaving the rest. It was a very useful talent to have had in History of Magic, she thought wryly.

Her stomach complained again, so noisily this time that she was positive everybody had heard it. Sure enough, quiet sniggers could be heard from the back of the classroom. Lily didn't turn around. She knew whose they were.

Shortly after the laughter had subsided, there was silence, apart from Professor Sprout's exasperated shouts as she was attacked by one of the plants behind her. Then Lily heard a soft thumping sound, followed by a few smaller ones. They sounded very near.

Cautiously, she twisted around to glance behind her. Sirius Black was asleep, his head resting on the desk, snoring loudly. Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew, the ones who had snickered, were having a slow, lethargic game of noughts and crosses. Their attention had wavered from Lily; they were no longer looking at her. One person was, though.

James Potter glanced from Lily to the floor by her desk and back again. Lily, curious, looked down.

There on the floor was a pumpkin pasty, carefully wrapped in something that looked similar to Muggle cling film (Lily, coming from a Muggle family, was well-acquainted with Muggle objects), and numerous Chocolate Frogs.

She picked them up and deposited them on to her desk, frowning slightly. Were they safe to eat? Last June, the last time she had eaten a pumpkin pasty given to her, she had sprouted an arm from out of her head. It had taken Madam Pomfrey over an hour to repair, and Lily had been obliged to stay in the hospital wing overnight so Madam Pomfrey could keep an eye on her, to check that no other stumps of arms were appearing. It was not an experience that Lily wanted to repeat.

She wasn't sure whether she should, or could, trust James. But then … he hadn't previously deceived her. Besides, something in his eyes was honest. And she really was beginning to become hungry now.

Lily unwrapped the pumpkin pasty and bit into it tentatively. After a few moments, when no arm grew out of her head, she turned around for a second time, swallowing the mouthful. James was watching her, his eyes wary. _Is he scared? _Lily asked herself. She smiled at him, to reassure him as much as to thank him.

He froze. She had never smiled at him before. But he had seen her grinning occasionally with her friends, and now he discerned again what a pretty smile she had. Rather embarrassed, he gave her a tiny half-smile of acknowledgement and nodded.

She turned away, still smiling. When she had finished the pasty, she pushed the Chocolate Frogs to the side of the desk. There was still another thirty minutes of Herbology left, and what would doubtlessly be an arduous Transfiguration lesson after lunch. She wasn't going to leave nothing with which to sustain herself.

Isabel Jackson, sitting next to Lily, was gazing at the Chocolate Frogs. She passed Lily a hastily scribbled note.

_Where did you get those? And the pumpkin pasty?_

_Hogsmeade_, wrote Lily_. Want one?_

_But the last Hogsmeade weekend was before the summer. You haven't been since. And no, I'm fine, thanks. Will's given me a sugar quill._

Lily stared at Isabel's note, feeling stupid. What an utterly idiotic thing to write! Hogsmeade! Of all the silly answers …

She shrugged at Isabel, showing that she didn't want to pursue the matter, and shook her head at William Taylor, who was offering her a sugar quill.

_Why_ hadn't she told the truth in that note, instead of making up an unintelligent lie? It would have been so simple: _James Potter gave them to me._ Much better than getting into the mess that she was in currently, that was clear. But she couldn't write that, not now; Isabel would think Lily was a liar, and would want to know why she had not written the truth in the first place. Lily wasn't sure why she had lied. Perhaps it was because having given the real reason would have resulted in questions, queries about why James had given her the food, enquiries to which Lily didn't know the answers. Perhaps it was because of the way James had looked when she had turned to express her gratitude to him; like an animal whose predator is circling it: guarded, watchful, frightened. Lily scrunched up her nose thoughtfully. What had he been afraid of? That she would snap at him, and say that she didn't need food from _him_? That she would be ungrateful? Well, she certainly wasn't unappreciative, although she was confused and, to her surprise, rather touched.

Sirius Black's head turned on his desk, and he woke, peering around groggily with unfocused eyes.

"Prongs? What's happening?"

"Herbology," James answered, his voice vague. Sirius looked at him more closely.

"Why aren't you half-asleep? And – have you made _notes_?"

"Padfoot, I nearly always make notes in Herbology. You know that."

James looked at his notes. They weren't as long as Lily's, but they were detailed enough. He glanced over at Remus, on whose parchment there were a few words. He remembered how the three of them had been the only students in the class who took notes during History of Magic; the other Gryffindors in their years had regarded the subject too boring to bother making an effort with, as did most of the students in the other houses. Some of the Ravenclaws probably took notes, though, thought James, as well as a few Hufflepuffs.

Remus had taken notes because, being a werewolf, he missed a substantial amount of lessons, and therefore felt it was important to try and keep up in all subjects. James had made notes because some of the topics were remotely interesting, and also because his exam mark would have been awful if he hadn't. He wasn't overly concerned about any of his marks, but, as Head Boy, he saw it as necessary to maintain decent standards. He didn't know why Lily had made notes. Her marks were just as good as his, and she was now Head Girl, and she had been a Prefect. Maybe that had been why.

But Sirius had wanted to borrow Frank Longbottom's notes in preparation for his History of Magic OWL, and he had been a Prefect, yet he hadn't taken notes.

"Prongs? Prongs!" said an irritable voice.

"W-what?" stammered James, turning to Sirius.

"Why were you staring at Evans?" Sirius growled, scowling.

James blinked. He had hardly realised that he had been looking at Lily, whilst thinking about her. And now he needed to come up with a way out of this, or he would be in trouble: Sirius was looking cross and horribly suspicious.

"I was thinking of a prank to play on her," invented James.

"Oh!" Sirius's bad mood dissipated instantly, and he beamed. "Good! This is a change! You never play pranks on her."

"I've told you before, Padfoot, Snape's my target. If I play pranks only on him, I can play twice as many." James picked up his quill and stared down at his work, to avoid having to look his friend in the eye.

It was not the real reason, and he knew it, but it was a good excuse to stop Peter and Sirius becoming distrustful and nagging him about it. Anything but that, because if they discovered proof that confirmed any suspicions that he did not have entirely abhorrent feelings towards Lily, he didn't know what they would do, or what he would, for that matter.

"Yes. A good cause," replied Sirius emphatically, agreeing wholeheartedly with James. James inwardly sighed with relief. He could always trust the fact that the subject of Snape would distract Sirius from that of Lily.

Severus Snape was a seventh year Slytherin, as oily and greasy in manner as in appearance. Sirius despised Snape a great deal more than he disliked Lily; aside from the fact that she, in his eyes, had started the quarrel in first year, the reason for this was because of James.

Lily did not play pranks on James, which, in a way, was fine for Sirius, because it meant that James had little chance of being hurt by her. Sirius loathed seeing any of his friends injured, physically or emotionally, but especially James. James was his rock, his life support. He valued James more than anything in the world.

Severus Snape, however, hated James above all others, and did his best to land him in whatever sort of trouble he could. For this, Sirius bore malice towards Snape with a vengeance – a vengeance that Snape returned. He constantly made life as difficult as possible for the four boys, and Lily too, and James hated him for it. James's ill will towards Snape was matched by nothing apart from Snape's animosity towards James.

The entire school, even the new first years, knew of the enmity between the two boys. Sirius often marvelled that his quiet friend could possess so much hatred. The rivalry was legendary: Hogwarts had not seen such bitter acrimony for a long time. As it had begun in the boys' first year, older students who had now left the school and had children told their families of the antagonism – many a young wizarding child's idea of a thrilling bedtime story was a recount of an event that had happened. Parents were only too glad to oblige; the feeling of nostalgia returned sharply, and they almost felt as though they were back at Hogwarts again, studying (occasionally, in some cases) in the library, roaming the corridors, roaring approval at Quidditch matches.

James, it had to said, was normally the hero of the stories. Most of the parents were biased towards one boy or the other, and as the majority of them had been from Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff or Gryffindor, the houses that favoured James, Snape tended to be portrayed as the evil-doer. Only those who had been in Slytherin looked upon Snape as the boy in the right. In many small children's eyes, the James in the stories could do no wrong, and when their parents told of a hex being thrown at him, or something similar, the children would protest violently and call Snape names.

New students attending Hogwarts had been instructed by the older ones never to go near the two boys when they were in the middle of a confrontation, for their own safety. Nobody wanted to, and wouldn't have even if it had not been for the warning; the hatred in the two boys' eyes when they locked gazes made even the teachers uncomfortable. Professor Dumbledore was the only member of staff who was not perturbed – he could break up a conflict with a word and an amiable smile directed at both boys. James held great respect for Dumbledore. Snape, who did not as yet to quite the same degree, would not dare to carry on in front of the Headmaster.

Remus and Sirius were not afraid of being there with James and Snape; Sirius hardly ever missed a chance of throwing a curse at the latter (in this way, it was because of Sirius that many of the duels started) and wanted to support James. Remus felt the same, although he generally did not hex Snape, and was often needed to restrain Sirius, bodily – as best as he could, because Sirius tended to be violent when furious – as well as through speech. Peter was not frightened of facing Snape as long as he was not facing him alone, which hardly occurred, and when it did, he ran.

It was fortunate that the three boys had no objection to being there with James, because there was rarely a time when they were not. The four of them did almost everything together, and James and Sirius were practically never seen out of the company of the other by the rest of the school, except for Prefects' meetings, which Sirius could not attend.

Lily didn't think much about being there either; she did not greatly esteem Snape, and she was not scared of him. He was a slimy young man who thought that because he was what some in the wizarding world called a 'pureblood' (from a line of witches and wizards only), he was better than everybody else. This arrogance simply infuriated Lily, who was unable to understand the reasoning behind the assumption. Besides, it was satisfying to see hatred in Sirius' grey eyes that was for somebody other than herself, gratifying knowing that she was not the only person he despised.

Everyone knew why Snape hated James. It was common knowledge. James was the star player on the Gryffindor Quidditch team. Madam Hooch, the flying instructor, had noticed James's talent in his first year, and had put him on the Gryffindor team the following year without a trial – and he had been there ever since.

As Gryffindor Quidditch matches approached, James had to be especially careful about meeting and becoming involved in duels with Snape in corridors. Usually, the Seeker was the person liable to the most injury before and during matches, since the capture of the Snitch, with its one hundred and fifty points awarded to that team, usually won them the match. The presence of James on the team, however, changed that rule, making the Gryffindor Seeker, Erin O'Brien, generally safe; the Slytherins were out to get James, instead: he was the best player on the team, he was the captain, the driving force behind the group and the key to their success … James was a more competent flyer than anyone in the school; he had skills to rival Madam Hooch's (although he denied it vehemently, all the students besides him knew its truth, even if some of them refused to acknowledge it), and was the main reason why Gryffindor won the Quidditch Cup so often. Capable of working with a team and by himself, James scored the majority of Gryffindor's goals, and was considered by the other teams to be the player who needed to be watched constantly during a match, the dangerous player, the threat. As a result, the Bludgers were mostly directed at him. It was this lack of attention towards the Seeker, and her keen eye, that enabled Erin to catch the Snitch – and the one hundred and fifty points, added to the points from goals, put Gryffindor far ahead of the other teams. In this way, they usually won the Quidditch Cup.

Snape was incredibly jealous of James and his ability, and it showed. Although, like James, Snape came from a wizarding family, he had never been very good at flying, and it was a great blow to him. He and James had been enemies since their first train journey to Hogwarts, and when Snape had heard of – and seen – James's gift for flying, it had added insult to injury. Nothing could be more mortifying than your worst enemy excelling at the one thing you desperately wished to be good at, but weren't.

When James had been automatically placed on the Gryffindor team in the second year, the situation had escalated from rivalry to bitter, burning hatred. James was not normally one to gloat, but he had not been about to sit there whilst Snape hexed him into oblivion without doing something about it. Egged on by Sirius, who took great delight in crowing about Snape's anger and his weakness at flying (_Sirius_ didn't mind gloating), and his own hatred of the Slytherin, James, along with the other three, had played even more pranks on Snape than the previous year.

It was also not in James's nature to be jealous. Had it been, he could have been just as jealous of Snape as Snape was of him. As a Slytherin, Snape possessed several traits James did not: among others, underhandedness and strong ambition. Snape thought nothing of hexing James when he had his back turned; James, however, was too chivalrous to do something like that. Snape was ambitious enough to risk pushing everything aside – and that included friendships if it were necessary – to achieve what he desired.

It was different for James, however. He was enjoying the position of Head Boy in his seventh year, and to ensure the role throughout the entire year, he would have possibly had to stop pulling pranks with his friends and sneaking around with them at night, which sometimes lost Gryffindor points. But he could not. He didn't have enough ambition. With James, his friends came first, above his desire to remain Head Boy. He knew this, and envied Snape for some of his characteristics, but he was not jealous. He knew they were comparable in some ways, for all their differences: one similarity he could think of was that they both held grudges for a long time, and held them tightly.

He had not told anybody that he had wanted to become Head Boy; if Sirius knew, he would probably die of shock. He had been surprised enough when James had been made captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team last year, at the start of his sixth year.

Another reason why Snape enjoyed getting James and his friends into trouble was because Remus was a Prefect and James was Head Boy. It was seen as a worse offence if the Prefects, who were supposed to set a good example to the students, were in trouble, and the Head Boy even more so. Unfortunately for Snape, the rule applied to him, too – he was one of the Prefects from Slytherin. How he had achieved the position, Sirius had no idea, and frequently said so, crossly. James, being fairer than Sirius to all students, thought he could understand why, though – Snape had excellent marks, and exemplified many of the qualities of the Houses, not just those prized by Salazar Slytherin in the Slytherin students. He was brave (although he would not realise it until later in life, when tested to the utmost), loyal, clever, and hard-working, amongst other things. He deserved to be a Prefect, but James did find it irksome to have him sneering at Remus, Lily and himself during Prefects' meetings.

Presently, the bell rang, signalling the end of Herbology. The remainder of the day crawled by, the only bright spots being lunch, where they had thick, steaming tomato soup, and Peter accidentally Transfiguring Sirius into a canary during Transfiguration.

When the bell rang for the end of lessons, everybody departed, going their different ways, only to meet up a while later at dinner. James sat down next to Remus, Peter and Sirius, who were already eating hungrily and had saved him a seat – he had been at Quidditch practise, and it had run late. He doled himself some pasta, chicken and carrots, studying them with feigned interest to hoodwink his friends and those around him. And then, making sure that nobody was watching, he furtively leaned forward, surreptitiously scanning the Gryffindor table, as he had done so many times before.

There she was.

Her wavy red hair was loose and framing her face, complimenting her emerald eyes. He liked her hair always, but especially when she had it down; it was pretty in the bun she sometimes put it into, too, and on the occasional times when she plaited it. He thought her hair was beautiful however it was styled, and stunning in its dark, fiery vibrancy.

Tearing his eyes away from her enthralling hair, he became conscious that she was glancing around, searching for something or someone – Dorcas was in the hospital wing with a cold, so Lily was probably seeking Jessica and Isabel. James knew that they weren't coming to dinner; it had been almost over when he had arrived, and there wasn't long left now. There was no time for them to have any dinner. Besides, he had seen the two of them shortly before entering the Great Hall, and they had been scurrying down a corridor in the opposite direction, whispering excitedly. He wondered what was so urgent that they had to skip a meal – he was pretty sure they did not know the way to the kitchens, and therefore couldn't eat later. He himself was not a stranger to missing meals, but he often sneaked down to the kitchens afterwards to compensate for the loss of food, and when he didn't, it was because he wasn't hungry or he did not have the time.

Lily seemed to realise that Jessica and Isabel were not going to turn up, because she stopped looking for them and fixed her eyes on her plate. James began to feel slightly indignant. Hadn't they told her that they weren't coming? Her own friends had left her without telling. It didn't seem too scandalous when taken by itself but, coupled with the masked upset on Lily's face, it enabled James to slowly start to slot things into place.

Lily Evans was not besieged by good company and friends, as he had always thought her to be; never the centre of attention, but never out of the circle. He had known she did not have many friends, but he had assumed that they were good, faithful friends, like his. He had been wrong. She was alone, although known by many, with a couple of friends on whom she could not rely to inform her that they would not be coming to dinner with her, let alone to help her in the direst circumstances, as James' friends would do for him, and he for them. He had pledged it long ago, firstly to himself and then to them, and they had sworn it in return. True friends were integral in life; even Lily, beautiful, independent, mystical Lily, could not survive without them.

Stealthily, he glanced down the table at her again. There was confusion in her eyes, and hurt.

At that moment, James made up his mind. He didn't care what Sirius would say if he saw James. Tomorrow, he was going to talk to Lily.


End file.
